Between Lost and Found
by ldyjaydin
Summary: What happened to Carol between when she was lost and when Daryl found her? What was going through Daryl's head during that time?


**Between Lost and Found**

By Robin Burton

**Carol**

She ran.

Tears streamed down her face knowing that T-Dog had just sacrificed his life to save her. Even though she knew he was right that he was already dead from the first walker bite, it was horrible to see him being ripped apart by those monsters. He didn't deserve that.

The walkers were coming behind her. She could hear them moaning and shuffling as they pursued her. Blindly she turned down another dark corridor, not even thinking about where she was going, just trying to escape.

Coming around the corner, a grimy window let some of the daylight spill in. The hallway was empty but she could still hear them coming for her. A metal door across from the window caught her eye. She wrenched the door open, making sure there weren't walkers already inside. It was a small closet with cleaning supplies stuffed into the back of it. The air was stale and it was so dark with the door closed but it might be enough to save her life.

She held both her breath and the door closed as she listened to the walkers shuffling along past her door. Only once did she feel one of them trying to pull the door open but she held it closed with all her might, trying to not make any sound. After a few feeble tugs, the walker stopped and moved on. It obviously did not realize she was in there or it would have been more motivated to get that door open.

It was difficult to know how long she stood there frozen until she stopped hearing any noises. Still holding the door closed with one hand, her other hand came up to cover her mouth as she wept softly. She cried for T-Dog and any of the others that might have been caught in the surprise walker attack. She also cried for herself, for the overwhelming fear of what had just happened. She felt so weak, wishing she could take down the walkers like Daryl or Rick or Andrea. Even Carl was better at it that her. It was easy to take them out through a fence but when faced with them, she just ran.

**Daryl**

He felt sick when he saw what was left of T-Dog after they had killed all the walkers on him. The large black man with a good heart had been reduced to just a pile of human flesh. He had obviously suffered and that was terrible. Another one of them gone.

Daryl did not hold ill-will against T-Dog for what happened with his brother Merle. He knew about what had happened on that rooftop in Atlanta. He also knew his brother's prejudices and even though he did not like thinking about it, Merle probably deserved the punishment given to him. He missed his brother because he knew Merle had a good side but it rarely saw the light of day.

Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Pink, filmy cloth bundled on the floor, splattered with blood. He felt his stomach clench as he lifted it up, knowing what it meant.

Carol's scarf. Carol was dead. The walkers got her with T-Dog. This was all that was left of her. His blood ran cold.

Rick said something and Daryl pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later. Tragedy had struck their group and more walkers could be around. He needed his concentration focused.

Out in the yard, more horror followed. Every person there knew that Lori was gone as soon as Carl and Maggie came out of that door with the tiny baby. Maggie's face crumpled when she saw Rick, who broke into a strained chant of saying "no" over and over again until he collapsed. It was painful to watch and he felt his feelings about losing Carol start to well up inside him.

Hershel's words about getting formula for the baby penetrated through the haze. Damned if he was going to let that baby die.

**Carol**

It had been hours and hours since she closed herself into the closet. Her watch had broken months ago and it was not like she was on a strict schedule in this post-apocalyptic world that she needed to scavenge another one. She hadn't heard any noises for a long time.

She cracked the door open, hoping that she could figure out the way back to the group's cell block. It was not her idea of fun to spend the night in the dank, dark closet. Not hearing anything, she braved opening the door further. The setting sun only let a dull glow through the dirty window now, throwing shadows all over the hallway.

Two walkers came at her from around the corner. Panic welled up when she realized that they had spotted her in the doorway, making a beeline right for her. With her heart racing, she pulled her knife out of her pocket. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, the panic lessened. Daryl had shown her how to hold the knife. Thinking of that, thinking of him, gave her strength. She would save herself thanks to his help.

The walkers had been large men in life, dressed in the prison navy jumpsuits. Their rotting flesh hung from their faces but their hazy eyes were locked on her as they approached her doorway. She readied herself, knife hand up, the door open just wide enough for her body.

The course of events only took about 5 seconds but it seemed to go in slow motion for her. She plunged the knife into the forehead of the taller walker, knowing it had hit home. It started to fall backwards so she jerked her knife out quickly, swinging her body in the opposite direction to hit the other walker. He was fatter and his skin seemed more yellow.

As her knife headed for his face, the first walker fell into her door. The door jarred her arm, pushing her knife off course. It lodged in the second walker's fat neck. With the weight of the first walker pushing the door closed, she had to release the knife or risk breaking her arm. She was able to slip her hand quickly through the rapidly closing door before it slammed shut.

She stumbled back, her foot sliding on something in the dark. She felt herself falling backwards, her head hitting the edge of a metal sink at the far end of the closet. Blackness closed in around her.

**Daryl**

The trip for formula was a success. That daycare had enough to get them through for at least a week before needing to go out for more. Maggie had even grabbed some diapers for her.

The task was a really good distraction. Of course, seeing the name "Sofie" written on the wall hit him in the gut. Sadness mixed with anger wanted to overwhelm him. He couldn't let it, forcing himself to move on. He even snagged a possum for dinner.

They were back on the bike, heading for the prison when he spotted it by the side of the road. It shined white against a background of dull brown and green. The Cherokee Rose.

If Maggie had not been on the back, he would have braked hard and pulled a 180 to get back. Not wanting her to topple over, he carefully swung around and stopped just off the road.

"I just have to grab something," he stated as he jumped off the bike. She also got off and stretched.

He could feel her eyes following him as he jogged over to the rose, cutting it just below the bloom with his knife. She looked at him questioningly as he carefully placed it in his pocket and walked back to the bike.

"I gave Carol one of these roses for Sophia. I think this one is growing for Carol," he explained. He saw the look of surprise on her face.

"Shut the hell up," he yelled despite her not saying a word. "I was going to find her little girl and that got fucked up. I was going to protect her, make sure that nothing happened to her. Now she's dead too. God damn walkers didn't even leave enough of her to bury."

"I'm so sorry Daryl. I knew you two were close but I didn't realize it was more than that," Maggie said.

He gave her a funny look then turned to get back on the bike when she spoke again. "I had to cut Lori open and take out her baby while she was still alive. I thought her screaming was the most horrible thing but it was actually worse when she stopped screaming. It was the most awful thing I ever had to do." A few tears squeezed out of her eyes but she wiped them away hastily.

"Yeah, that sucks." He knew his words weren't eloquent, he just was not good at that. But she nodded, seemed comforted and climbed back on the bike with him.

**Carol**

Consciousness drifted in slowly. She woke a few times but it was so dark and she was so tired that she just let herself fall back to sleep. When she finally fully regained consciousness, it was still pitch black. Again, not having a watch meant she had no idea if she'd been out for minutes or hours.

She sat up and a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. Closing her eyes, she sat still until it passed. She felt the large bruise on the back of her head, carefully palpating it with her fingers. It would heal. Her wrist was scratched up from the door but no more damage than that since she had pulled her hand back before it slammed closed all the way. Her body was sore from landing on the hard floor.

Tentatively, she pushed at the door with her foot. Remembering her encounter with walkers her last attempt scared her but she was going to die down here if she didn't get out. The door opened about an inch and then stopped. She pushed a little harder but no more movement.

She leaned over, trying to push the door with her arms. It opened just wide enough for her to see the rotting arm splayed across the floor. That damn walker had fallen right in front of the door, blocking her way out. Getting to her knees, she pushed as hard as she could.

Another wave of dizziness hit her and she quickly slumped back down against the wall, holding her head in her hands. It took longer to pass this time and even when it did, she felt weak and sick.

A wish for more sleep was denied her so her brain started to wander to everyone up in the prison. Had everyone else made it through the attack okay? She hoped that Lori would be okay delivering her baby. Hershel was really the one who was experienced but she was determined to make herself useful with helping. Practicing on that walker was disgusting but had shown her where different parts of the anatomy were located.

Her brain drifted over to Daryl. Daryl. She knew she was falling hard for him. Hadn't had a crush on someone like this since just after Sophia was born and Ed had caught her flirting with the neighbor who jogged by every morning. Ed had already shown his true colors long before that but he'd been particularly brutal in that instance with his jealousy. She could not walk for 2 days and then made sure to never be outside when that neighbor was jogging.

Now Ed was gone and she felt those restricting tendrils being cast off. Not that she deluded herself into thinking she could ever tame the wild man Daryl was. He was like a neglected dog that had gone back to its nature roots. Sure, he was probably closer with her than anyone else in the group but she really didn't think he felt the same way about her as she did about him.

A smile ghosted her lips as she thought about the time she propositioned him to screw around. He looked like a deer in the headlights and she just could not help laughing. It was an added bonus when he mentioned "going down".

No, she had a feeling some beautiful, young, wild woman would sweep into his life and tame him. She would be happy for him because he would be happy but her heart would hurt. Her hopes for herself in this matter were low because she had learned that she needed to protect herself from feeling like this, both before the walkers came with Ed and after when she lost Sophia.

With his handsome face in her mind watching over her, her thoughts drifted to a hazy place between awake and asleep.

**Daryl**

He knew he was dreaming, that he was just lying in his bed at the top of the stairs of the cell block. Not that he cared, wanting to completely immerse himself into that dream world.

He was kissing Carol, hot and hard. His tongue was exploring her mouth and she tasted so good, like strawberries and chocolate. Her hands were cupped around the back of his neck, her fingers running through his hair. She was making little throaty noises and it was driving him wild.

Her hands came around it the front and she started to unbutton his shirt without breaking contact with her lips. His own hands moved down from her back to the curve of her ass. She jumped a little at that intimate contact, a little giggle bubbling up. It made him kiss her deeper.

His shirt was unbuttoned and she pushed her hands underneath the clothing to his back. Running her fingernails over his naked skin was incredibly arousing. He pulled her hard against the length of his body. His mouth slipped down to her neck, wanting to taste more of her. She moaned out his name, "Daryl…"

Suddenly, she was ripped right out of his arms. Three decaying walkers were dragging her backwards. One of them bit into her shoulder, tearing off a chunk of her flesh. She was screaming and thrashing, desperate to fight them off.

He wanted to help her, to stop them from killing her. Yet, he could not move. He was frozen in place. He spotted his crossbow just to the side but he couldn't get it. His beautiful dream with Carol had turned into a sickening nightmare. All he could do was watch as those walkers brutally killed her.

He awoke with a strangled scream on his lips. Cold sweat covered his body and he was shaking.

"Get a grip, you fucking wimp. She's dead," he whispered to himself. The sun was just barely coming up and he could not stand to go back to bed after that nightmare.

He grabbed his jacket and silently went downstairs. Everyone else was asleep, even the baby. Rick was still off getting his anger and pain out so she had no name other than his own nickname for her, Little Asskicker. At this point, she seemed to be a relatively quiet baby and that might just save her life.

The air was cool and heavy with morning dew. He looked across the yard at the three graves that had been dug. Lori's was still open because no one wanted to confront Rick after he'd basically thrown Glenn into the wall. T-Dog's remained were carefully buried. There had not been enough of Carol left for a true body so they had buried her bloody scarf.

He pulled the Cherokee Rose out of his pocket. It looked as fresh as when he first picked it yesterday. Wishing he could have had more time, he placed the white flower by the stones lined over her grave by the others. His fingers briefly rested on the cross of wood marking her grave. He had failed her, just like he had failed Sophia.

**Carol**

A noise startled her out of her haze. She knew even without a watch that she had been down there for over a day. Her throat burned with thirst but she was too weak to get up. When she tried, the dizziness would overwhelm her. She had no strength to move the big walker lodged in front of the door.

Voices. Carl's? Yes, it was Carl. And Daryl! She tried to scream for them but only a raspy whisper came out. Using her foot, she banged it against the door as hard as she could, making it hit the walker over and over again.

The voices faded away and hopelessness washed over her. Tears started leaking out of her eyes and she let herself have a moment to cry in despair. Only a moment though because she decided that she was going to keep banging against that door until she either died or someone found her.

**Daryl**

His back was against the wall, her knife in his hand as he jabbed into the concrete floor. He'd pulled it out of that ugly-ass walker's neck while Carl, Oscar and he were walker hunting. Seeing it had given him a glimmer of hope that maybe Carol was still alive, hiding out somewhere down in the depths of the prison. But then the cold hand of reality closed over his heart with the thought of that walker being one of the ones that destroyed her. She'd tried to defend herself and lost.

The door across from him kept banging against the dead walker on the floor. Sometimes it would stop for a few minutes but then it started again. He had this sickening feeling in his gut that Carol was in there. Not his Carol, not the way he wanted her.

After 20 minutes of just sitting there thinking, watching the door banging, he couldn't stand it anymore. His rage was rising and he lashed out, his foot slamming against the door. He wanted to tear it off its hinges but it held.

He did not want to do this. Why should he have to do this? He started to stalk away, leave whatever was behind that door to its fate.

No. If it was Carol and she turned, he felt he owed it to her to put her at peace. She deserved that much from him.

He turned back, deftly placing the small knife in his mouth in order to use the strength of both hand to drag the large walker out of the way. Hi body tensed, the knife positioned for an easy kill as he jerked open the metal door.

It was almost a shock that nothing came flying out at him. It took a few seconds for him to relax enough to see into the tiny closet. He saw movement on the floor.

Her face came up to him and it was the sweetest moment he could imagine. Her tired face looked both confused and hopeful at the same time. Despite the dried blood and sweat all over her, she looked beautiful.

He reached in and touched her, pulling her face up the tiniest bit more to see her. He had to make sure she was real, not just a delusion of hope. Yes, she was real. She had survived. He leaned in and gathered her up in his arms.

"I've got you," he whispered to her.


End file.
